It's A Guy Thing

It’s funny how quickly things can change. Last week I was poking fun at the Global-Warming crowd. This week I’m recovering from Spinal-Surgery. Not exactly what I had in mind.
Like most guys, I like to think I’m in control of certain things in my life. And to lose control of simple things like using my left hand really sucked. Of course, I kept working with it thinking it would loosen up as the day went on. I started getting these weird electrical shocks and I started feeling numb over most of my body. My guy brain said I was probably just imagining things. I was having lunch the next day when my blood pressure shot through the roof. Finally giving in, I went to see a doctor to have it checked out. This visit prompted a journey through the world of Medical Care I didn‘t even know existed. Blood tests and an MRI ruled out a stroke, which is what I was worried about, but would never admit it. This prompted an appointment with a neurologist. This appointment led to two more MRI’s and a meeting with a Neuro-Surgeon on Thursday who recommended surgery early Friday morning. That’s impossible. Surely they could give me a shot, pat me on the butt and send me on my way, besides, I’m a guy and like all guys, I had work to do, and I’m way to busy. Then the Doctor started explaining the problem. He told me I had two bulging discs in my neck that were compressing my spinal cord by as much as 80% and if not corrected it could kill me. So much for being in control of things.
I checked into the Hospital at 7:30 Friday morning. I tried to get them to schedule things an hour or so later so I could catch the first hour of the Jim Cates Show, but they seemed pretty busy saving lives and all, so I didn’t push it. I was led to pre-op, where they drug you up and eventually send you and your bed on this really weird ride up and down a bunch of hallways to another room with bright lights. They roll you onto a table, someone gives you more drugs and that’s about it. The next thing I remembered was a nice woman telling me something about the surgery being over, and I’d have to calm down because of the stitches in my neck. Oh yeah, I also remember feeling like someone had parked a truck in my throat.
I guess it was about another hour later when they put me in another room for the night. I wish I could remember more about that part too. They tell me most of my family was there and I’m sure we had some brilliant conversations. Actually, I suspect a couple of them might have taken advantage of the situation and made me agree to something I’ll regret later.
The rest of the night was a blur, another nice lady and a man named James kept telling me to get some rest, but came in every 15 minutes or so to check on my vitals. They kept asking me how much pain I was in, and reminded me of the morphine trigger I had control over. That’s when I knew things were going to be okay. It wasn’t the morphine. It was the fact I had control over the trigger. Earlier in the day I couldn’t cover my own butt, now I controlled the trigger. Not bad.
This old guy is grateful to those who took control when I couldn‘t.
Kevin McGinty can be reached at: kevinmcginty@sbcglobal.net